was as gallant in spirit if not in effect as the
bows of Malgares. I qualify because Pike had to endure the mortification
of riding beneath the gaze of all those sparkling eyes in a costume
better fitting a backwoods farmer than a military gentleman. He was
still in his scarlet cap and blanket cloak. Yet, encouraged by our
acknowledgment of the first greeting, others of the ladies caught up the
cry, until we found ourselves being welcomed no less warmly and
frequently than Malgares himself.

This should have been fair enough augury to reassure the most despondent
of travellers. But as we jingled past house after house, I found myself,
between bows, scanning the gay groups on the balconies with a sinking
heart. We were nearing the plaza. I could see the trees between the
blank, bare walls of the dwellings which flanked the narrow street. In a
little more we should pass the last of the balconies,--and I had seen no
sign of my lady.

We neared the last balcony. Upon it were only three ladies, one of whom
held back behind the others, so much of her head and shoulders as showed
being muffled in a silk _reboza_, the Mexican head-drape or shawl. The
other two leaned eagerly forward over the balustrade, and the younger, a
plump beauty with the blackest and most brilliant of eyes, flashed at
Malgares a look that told me she was his wife, even before he called to
her in terms of extravagant endearment. Unlike so many of the Spanish
marriages, his had been a love match.

The senora and her yet plumper companion at the rail called down a
welcome to _los Americanos_. Pike and I swept off our hats and bowed our
handsomest. I straightened and looked up. Malgares had not checked his
horse for an instant, so that we were now opposite the balcony, and I,
being on the right, was almost directly beneath it. My heart gave a
great leap. Smiling down upon me, over the rail, I saw the lovely face
of my lady. I started to cry out her name: "Al--"

But already her finger was on her scarlet lips. I checked myself so
quickly that my exclamation sounded more like an "Ah!"

My lady let fall her _reboza_ over her face and drew back out of view.
When at last I gave over craning my head about, Malgares met me with a
smile. "So you have discovered her already, Don Juan!" he remarked in
French.

"My senorita!" I murmured. "She is the loveliest lady in the world!"

"The most beautiful--that is true, but I cannot admit that she is the
loveliest," h